What It Comes To
by Lapiseye
Summary: Ilvermorny can be just as dramatic as Hogwarts...
1. Chapter 1: Nic

All in all, things were running rather smoothly at the American wizarding school of Ilvermorny. It was near the beginning of the year, and Wampus was already leading with the most House Points so far—102. As usual, Thunderbird was trailing at the end with only 74. Despite this, most members of the Ilvermorny houses were getting along well.

But of course, there were always the squabbles.

The squabbles seemed to be started by one student in particular; a sixth-year named Chase Duran. Chase had shoulder-length wavy black hair that he often tied back in a short, messy ponytail. His eyes were a ridiculous shade of light violet, and he was one of the three Specials that went to Ilvermorny—meaning that he could perform magic without a wand. He hadn't quite mastered it yet, though, so whenever he cast a spell, purple sparks danced across his hands and around his slender fingers.

Chase wore the gold-and-red-trimmed white robes of the Thunderbird house, with a Gordian Knot on his chest to fasten his robes; but at the moment, the brooch was unclasped as he argued with another student. Thunderbird was said to favor adventurers, and Chase was certainly adventurous—with most of the girls and at least half of the boys in Ilvermorny.

He took school seriously, though, earning some of the best grades in his year despite being absent for quite a few of his classes (he loved pranking his fellow students). He had a line of achievement badges down the sleeve of his right arm, including one for training his falcon, Ople. (While Hogwarts, in Scotland, preferred owls as means to deliver letters, there was an even mix of all sorts of raptors at Ilvermorny.)

Around Chase's neck, a gold ring hung, intricately woven out of tiny, thorned gold threads. A delicately carved silver knife was hidden beneath his robes in its worn leather scabbard, just waiting to be pulled out if the need arose. Ilvermorny didn't allow weapons out of the weapons room and training area, but then, Chase had never been one to follow the rules. He was the troublemaker of Ilvermorny school, and everyone loved him.

 _Of course, there could be a little more love going around right now_ , Nicolas Reldai thought as he leaned against a granite wall, watching as Chase smirked at a Wampus seventh-year.

Nicolas Reldai—known as Nic to his friends—was in his seventh year at Ilvermorny and a prefect of Wampus house.

"It was your stupid falcon that delivered that love potion to Amanda Greene, don't deny it," the Wampus snapped. His name was Terrance Carlysle, and he wasn't terribly popular amongst his house; he was seen as a brute and a bully. Nic loathed him feverously, and he told himself that was why he was here—to watch him getting taken down a peg—not because he wanted an excuse to stare at Chase's lithe figure.

Nic might have hated his fellow Wampus, but he took great pride in his black-and-red-trimmed yellow robes of Wampus House. When he'd first stepped into Ilvermorny to be sorted, three houses wanted him: Horned Serpent, Wampus, and Pukwudgie. Nic had chosen Wampus. Wampus favored warriors, and even though Nic wasn't particularly muscular or bulky, he knew a slew of spells that even some teachers didn't know. He was also a Special, like Chase, but he was a whole lot better at controlling his magic. He'd chosen Wampus as his house because he loved the strategy of fighting.

"Ople was in the aviary at the time," Chase said smugly. "She couldn't possibly have given that potion to Greene." He cocked his head. "It's not like you had any qualms about it. From what I heard, you had quite the night after the sun went down. I guess she liked all those Wampus muscles?" Chase waggled his eyebrows and several people in the gathering crowd snickered. Carlysle turned scarlet and whirled around, furious. The offenders were hidden in a sea of gathering faces, so he whipped back around to face Chase and took a threatening step forward, taking out his wand. Chase stayed where he was.

 _Fool_ , Nic thought. Several strands of black hair had escaped Chase's ponytail and scraggled down the side of his face.

"How do you know where the Wampus Common Room is?" he growled.

Chase looked almost injured and Nic fought the urge to laugh.

"It's not like _I'm_ the one that has trouble finding someone to get a little friendly with," he said. He posed thoughtfully for a moment, then snapped his fingers as if realizing something. "It must be your brain," he said. "Too much of it is taken up with violence. We get rid of the violence, and get you laid more, and—"

Carlysle snarled and stepped forward so they were chest-to-chest. "You listen here—"

"What's going on?" Professor Blackfoot, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, breezed around the corner. With a flick of her wand, Carlysle's went flying back into his robes and tucked itself back into his sash.

Professor Blackfoot wore the cranberry and blue robes of Ilvermorny. Her long, white-streaked black hair was twisted up into a complicated bun and her dark eyebrows on her bronze face were raised. Professor Blackfoot was a Lakota Native American from South Dakota and had come to teach at Ilvermorny after retiring as an Auror. Her real name was Samantha Jones, but she'd changed it to honor her grandfather's passing.

"Well?" Professor Blackfoot asked.

"I've done absolutely nothing wrong, Professor," Chase said innocently, raising his hands.

"Duran, I think all of us watching can agree that when you're involved, you've always done _something_ ," Professor Blackfoot said sternly, but not unkindly. She probably had a special spot for Chase. All the teachers did. If there was an award for "favorite student," Chase probably would've won it already. Even if he _wasn't_ the most popular student in Ilvermorny (he was) he would've won it anyway—Chase was more competitive than the Horned Serpent Quiddich captain. And that was saying a lot.

"Yes he has," Carlysle growled, ignoring the teacher and glaring at Chase. "He found out that I fancy Amanda and slipped her a love potion."

Nic watched as Chase tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably.

"Is this true, Duran?" Professor Blackfoot asked. Her strict face said that any lie would be punished with a detention—or several.

"Ma'am, I was just helping them out," Chase said, spreading his fingers wide, a consoling look on his face. "Something needed to be done. One couldn't've cut the sexual tension between them with a hacksaw."

"Regardless," Professor Blackfoot said crisply, "you know that love potions are not allowed in school. We can discuss this after school in my office when you have detention, Duran." She raised an eyebrow. "Clear?"

Chase nodded angelically, eyes wide. "Crystal, Professor."

"Just one?" Carlysle whined. The teacher turned a stony glare on him.

"Unless you'd like to join him for two, Carlysle, I suggest you do not complain," she said. "I do not tolerate people who threaten others, even if they are not in my House." Professor Blackfoot was the head of House Thunderbird and in charge of all of the students in it. Of course, she could always assign detentions to other students.

Professor Blackfoot looked around at the gathered students. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Classes start in three minutes," she said to them. "I suggest you get going unless you want to be late and lose House points."

The younger students scurried off quickly, the older ones meandering lazily up the stairs, as they already knew shortcuts through the castle. Carlysle tossed one last insult Chase's way and stalked off in a huff.

"I thought you would be more mature then that, Duran," Professor Blackfoot said, looking down at the student. "You need to set an example for the younger students."

Chase hung his head. "Sorry, Professor."

She nodded curtly. "Get along to class." She spun on her heel and clattered up the nearby staircase. Chase watched her go, and Nic watched Chase.

Chase spun around, robes flying, to walk down the corridor and came face-to-face with Nic, who had pushed off the wall. Or, more accurately, face-to-neck because Nic was just this much taller than him.

"Skipping class again, Duran?" Nic asked archly. "If I recall correctly, Transfiguration is that way." He jerked his chin the other way down the hall.

"I'm honored," Chase said, grinning. "You know my schedule." He smirked and sauntered past Nic, who turned to watch him. "You don't have class, Reldai?"

"Open hour," Nic replied. "But unlike you, I do not make it a habit to skip my classes."

"Well, where's the fun in that?" Pausing at a doorway, Chase winked, smirked, and tipped an imaginary hat at Nic before disappearing down another corridor.

 _Cheeky fool_ , Nic thought. _Cheeky, charming fool_. There was a reason Chase's bed was never empty.


	2. Chapter 2: Chase

The entrance to the Thunderbird Common Room was on the roof. Chase thought that was maybe just a _tiny_ bit excessive, but it worked well for scaring the first-years. He remembered when he was first ushered up the swaying rope ladder onto the tower roof to get in. He'd run across the roof tiles, nearly slipping off the gutter and giving the prefect a heart attack.

Now, of course, he was used to it, and he loved to sit on the roof at night, watching the clouds sift by and letting the cool, thin air waft by his skin.

Ilvermorny was located on the top of Mount Greylock in Massachusetts, and was concealed from No-Majs by numerous spells and enchantments that took the form of a huge, hazy fog surrounding the granite castle. If you had good eyes, though, you could look out far past the fog to the surrounding mountains and watch the birds flying high in the sky.

Chase had good eyes.

Right now, though, he wanted to get into the Common Room.

Chase crept carefully across the warm roof tiles of the tower to the locked sunroof. The trapdoor had been enchanted to be strong and sturdy, so no one could break in. There were, however, several enchanted locks that, when unlocked, allowed the trapdoor to be opened. There weren't strictly any keys, and they couldn't be opened with magic, so if you wished to sleep in a bed that night, you better be good at lock-picking. Of course, if you came from the side streets and alleys of a big city, you got pretty skilled at that sort of thing.

Chase crouched in front of the trapdoor and dug out several thin metal wires from his pockets. A couple of minutes later he had all three locks undone and he tugged open the sunroof, jumping down into the Common Room. Above him, the trapdoor slammed shut. The locks magically clicked themselves closed behind him.

The Thunderbird Common Room was big. A whole lot bigger than the Pukwudgie Common Room, that's for sure. Chase had seen the inside of all of the Common Rooms, courtesy to several giggling girls and boys. He still thought Thunderbird's was the best, though. The main area was a huge, circular chamber, a fire pit located right in the middle. Several benches carved elaborately into the shape of magical animals surrounded the fire, which was always flickering, regardless of the temperature outside. Tables skirted the room, ready to be pulled next to benches if one wished to study in the Common Room instead of in the library. Carefully placed windows were located around the room, stretching from floor to ceiling, letting in the maximum amount of sunlight. Book detailing ancient adventures lay strewn about haphazardly across a few narrow bookshelves.

Across from the fire, on opposite sides from each other, the doors to the boys' and girls' dormitories swung, each half-open. The girls' dormitories were right below the common room, but the boys needed to take several more flights down the precarious stair set before reaching their sleeping areas.

Cautiously, Chase pushed the door to the boy's dormitory open all the way. Several times he'd gotten black eyes when magical contraptions had exploded from behind the door. " _Adventurers have to be ready for everything_ ," as Professor Blackfoot loved saying.

When nothing happened, he crept past the door and ran down the rickety steps. Everyone had their own way of getting down the perilous staircases that were full of surprises. Some people cast spells on the staircase and others cast spells on themselves, but Chase preferred to dash helter-skelter down, the adrenaline rushing through his veins whenever a wooden stair snapped in half or when the slates tipped together to form a slick slide. He usually acquired quite a few bruises from his method of descending, but he considered it quite worth it.

The stairs must have been feeling quite mellow today, however, because Chase managed to make it to his room with nary a scratch.

Chase, of course, had roommates—three other Thunderbird sixth-years named Collin Marmac, Alexander Jones, and Taj Chaudhary. Unlike him, they were in class at the moment, their beds lying messy.

Chase made his way to his bed and knelt on his blankets, prying a window open. Cool mountain air wafted in, causing goose bumps to erupt on his skin. Putting his fingers to his mouth, Chase gave a piercing whistle, calling his falcon.

With a screech, the mottled gray bird dove into the room, grabbing onto the leather armguard on Chase's right forearm. She bobbed her head and called again, this time quieter.

"Hey Ople," Chase crooned, stroking the side of her neck. The bird bobbed again.

"I have a letter for you," he said, opening a drawer on his nightstand and pulling out a perfect square of paper. "Can you get this to Shay McAllister? Please." He held it out and Ople hopped down his arm. She croaked and grabbed the letter, a second later launching herself back out the window.

Shay had been Chase's summer girlfriend. Past tense, because Chase's letter to her was to tell her that he couldn't possibly pursue their relationship.

Chase liked to be no-strings-attached.


	3. Chapter 3: Nic

Both of Nic's parents worked for the Magical Congress of the United States of America. Being the only child of two Congresspeople did come with its perks, of course. They always had enough money, and Nic's parents would've spoiled him rotten if he always didn't decline their expensive gifts.

His parents had been ecstatic when they'd found out he was a Special. Specials were a relatively new development in the wizarding world. Usually, it took years and years of training and practice to be able to do magic without a wand, and many wizards and witches didn't bother. Why bother? Magic with a wand was so much easier.

Now, though, things seemed to be evolving. The first wizard to be born who didn't need a wand for magic had been named Mara Hudson. She'd died shortly after birth, but after her death, several other "Specials" had been discovered. The total number of Specials in the world was only six, so far. And Nic knew that there were three Specials at Ilvermorny, counting him and Chase. There was another Special at Beauxbatons, and one at Durmstrang, too. The sixth was still a baby somewhere in Brazil.

Nic swept down the corridor, straightening his robes. He wasn't particularly outstanding in the looks department—he had hair that hovered somewhere between blonde and brown and light brown eyes. He was rather tall, which gave him an advantage when he had to scold the younger students for breaking the rules. Being intimidating was easier when you were tall. Although, it wasn't easy when you were trying to stare down Chase Duran's smirk and desperately attempting not to laugh.

Nic sighed and turned the corner.

Abruptly, he heard urgent footsteps behind him and whirled around. A panting fifth-year doubled over, trying to catch her breath. She looked up, her frizzy black hair falling into her face.

"Center Hall," she gasped. "There's something wrong!"

Oh for goodness sake, had Chase managed to get into trouble _already_? It had literally been twenty minutes since Nic had seen him last.

For some reason, however, the fifth-year's voice stuck a note of hesitation in him. She sounded… frantic.

Nic whirled around and ran off the way she had come. When he reached Center Hall—where students ate meals together and just generally socialized—the first thing he noticed was the large tables had been pushed haphazardly along the walls, as if by magic; goodness knew they were too heavy to be moved by hand. In the center of the large room, a student was writhing as if someone was shoving a hot poker down his throat. Red steam was trailing up from his mouth. It was Trey Johnson; a second-year in Wampus and a seeker for his house's Quiddich team. Alarmed students were already gathered on the balcony above the hall, pointing and yelling.

Where were the teachers?

Only one other person stood on the ground floor somewhat near to Johnson. It was Rachel Tellemeyer, the third Special at Ilvermorny. She was also a seventh-year, a member of Pukwudgie.

"What's happening here?" Nic asked, taking a step toward Johnson. Johnson cried out, back arching, and the smell of burning flesh seared through the air.

"I don't know," Rachel said desperately. "He's been like this since I got here. Every time I try to get close, he gets hurt more." She shook her head. "I tried spells…"

"Why are the teachers not here?" Nic asked. When he moved forward to get to Rachel, Johnson screamed and Nic backed off.

"I sent Darlene to go get them," Rachel said. "I don't know why they're not here yet." She looked scared. "Do you think Chase did this?"

Nic hesitated. Chase loved to mess with people, but he loathed hurting them. "I—" Nic started to speak, but just then the huge wooden doors to Center hall burst open in a shower of purple sparks, banging against the walls.

"What the _fuck_ is happening?" Chase leapt over the Gordian Knot in front of the doors. "I'm minding my own business in Transfiguration and suddenly Taj bursts in on me shouting about how I've gone too far this time—" Chase skidded to a halt, his eyes widening as he took Johnson on the floor, whimpering.

"What the hell?" He looked up, eyes darting from Rachel to Nic and back again to Johnson. Behind him, several teachers rushed in, taking in the predicament immediately.

Professor Blackfoot whipped out her wand, the other teachers following her example. She pointed it at Johnson, shouting, " _Finite Incantatem_!"

A shower of sparks burst from the teachers' wands, exploding onto Johnson. He slumped limply to the ground, his limbs twisted at odd angles. Above him, a foreboding red cloud of smoke hovered.

"Well, that's not foreboding at all," Chase muttered.

Nic swallowed his irritation. Did this guy take _nothing_ seriously?

Above them, students were shouting to their friends and pointing. Mutters filled the hall. It wouldn't take long for this news to spread.

Behind the teachers, Madame Kleve, the nurse, dashed in, heading straight for Johnson. "Professor Williams, help me get him to the infirmary," she barked. Together, two adults maneuvered the limp boy out of the Hall.

Nic looked at Professor Blackfoot and gulped. She looked murderous. And she was glaring straight at Chase.

"Explain yourself, Duran!"


	4. Chapter 4: Chase

Chase whirled around, anger flashing in his purple eyes. "I don't need to," he snapped. "It wasn't me. I never do anything like that."

How could she even _think_ he could do something like that? He would never _ever_ hurt a student like that. The student's shrill screams still echoed in his ears, giving him shivers.

"That's true, Ma'am," Alexander called from the balcony. Somehow, he'd gotten to the front of the masse of people. "I was in Transfiguration with him. He didn't do it."

A wave of relief swept through Chase. He loved his friends.

Professor Blackfoot narrowed her eyes, then jerked her head out toward the Hall's doors. "All three of you. Headmaster's office. Now."

There was no doubt at all that she was talking to the three Specials.

Whispers flew behind them as they filtered out of the Hall, Reldai and Tellemeyer walking briskly in the front, Chase trailing behind.

Most classes were still ongoing, despite the gathered crowd in the Center Hall that had suggested otherwise, so the hallways were mostly deserted as they passed.

They made their way down a huge spiraling staircase; Chase wasn't exactly _unfamiliar_ with the way they were going. He'd seen his fair share of the Headmaster.

Chase picked nervously at a hangnail on his thumb. Every time he closed his eyes to blink, he could see the kid on the floor; rolled-back eyes; gaping, frothing mouth with smoke pouring from it; clenching and unclenching fists.

Why would someone do that?

 _Who_ would do that?

Chase chewed on his lip and looked around. Portraits of old staff members hung around the descending stairs. Several people sleeping, but most of the portraits were awake, many pairs of eyes swiveling and watching the three teens as they descended.

"What's happened now?" grumbled a gaunt old man, his long white beard wobbling. "You know, you modern types really ought to steel yourself against these types of things. Why, in my day, we would have duels every morning to warm up for—" He was cut off when a podgy woman wearing a dress in an alarming shade of chartreuse smacked the back of his head.

"Shut it, you idiot. This must be important. Those are the three Specials."

"Ah, yes, I remember Chase," the old man said, catching Chase's eye and nodding. "Good fellow, good fellow. He keeps things awake in this school."

Chase bit back a grin. He thought he heard someone snort. The Professor?

The old man shoved himself out of his chair and followed them through several more paintings, disrupting a sleeping young woman and nearly trampling a small fellow.

They stepped off the staircase and into a small, circular room, not unlike the top of a lighthouse. The brick walls were engraved with frighteningly realistic beasts.

"We're here to speak with the Headmaster," Professor Blackfoot said authoritatively, and the beasts looked to each other, considering the truth of her statement.

Magic made them as intuitive and intelligent as humans. Nobody _really_ knew what would happen if they weren't pleased with you, however, rumors circled around. Some people said they would rip you to shreds, others said there was a secret trapdoor that would drop you straight into the mountains… Chase was thankful to say he didn't know what happened to you if you lied and didn't want to.

Chase snapped back to attention when a large tiger padded forward and leapt sinuously off the wall. It curled up onto the room's center stone on the floor, and suddenly, the walls melted away, revealing a large passageway.

Professor Blackfoot ushered the three down the hall, the walls closing behind them. The corridor opened into a large, L-shaped room.

Chase was very well acquainted with this room, having spent quite a bit of time in it. It was extremely immaculate; everything had a place. There was a large wood desk toward the back of the room. Two of the walls were actually meticulously organized bookshelves. Behind the desk, there was a floor-to-ceiling window making up the third wall that looked over the courtyard in the center of the castle. The Headmaster loved plants, so a large variety of flora tumbled over her desk and down the bookshelves. A couple of small, potted trees stood in the corner by the window, soaking up light. The floor of the room was made of cobblestone, but it was so well polished that Chase could almost see his reflection in it as he stared at his feet.

"Headmaster Liang," Professor Blackfoot called. "Something's happened in the Center Hall—"

A middle-aged Asian-American woman appeared around a corner and dumped a heavy stack of books onto a table with a loud slam. "Ah, yes. The incident with Johnson."

Chase didn't even question how she knew about it already. News travelled faster than light in Ilvermorny castle.

"I can take it from here, Professor Blackfoot," Headmaster Liang said. "Thank you."

Professor Blackfoot nodded perfunctorily and exited the room with a swish of her robes.

The Headmaster shelved one of her books casually. Her sharp eyes belied her careful movements as she looked at Chase severely.

"This is a very serious matter," she said sternly. "Small injuries in class are one thing, but putting a student in danger? Unacceptable."

She shelved another book and Chase quailed under her stony gaze.

"I don't suppose any of you have any idea who did this?"


	5. Chapter 5: Chase

It was past midnight and Chase was completely and utterly exhausted. After the incident with Johnson and Headmaster Liang's grilling, he was in absolutely no mood for human contact.

" _Lumos_ ," he muttered, and a small purple ball of light floated off his palm, staying level with his head as he picked the locks to Thunderbird's Common Room.

Nicolas had given him the side-eye the whole time they'd been in the Headmaster's office. Chase had wanted to yell, _What? Why are you staring at me? I didn't_ do _it, for the hundredth time!_

Chase yanked open the sunroof and dropped into the Common Room. Two first-years were sitting across from each other, playing chess.

"What if you used _Alohomora_?" One of them asked, her queen tackling one of her opponent's pawns.

"Don't be silly," the other girl replied. "Everyone knows spells don't work on those locks. Don't you think I've already tried it? Shunts you off the roof of the tower if you do that."

Chase grinned, mood lightening a bit. It never took first years long to realize that spells didn't work on the locks to get into the Common Room. He padded past them as the second girl's knight reared over the first's bishop.

When he opened the door to the boys' dormitory, he wasn't surprised to see that the stairs had changed during the middle of the day. Instead of going down, they went up. His brain on autopilot, he ran up the stairs two-by-two—people who took stairs one at a time were devils in disguise. When the last step before his door broke, Chase plummeted down with an alarmed squawk, his hand catching on the edge of the floor at the last time.

"Bro, are you trying to learn how to fly?"

Chase looked up to see Alexander peering out of their dorm's door at him.

"Please stop talking and start helping," Chase gasped, legs flailing over open air.

"Sorry." Alexander extended a hand and with the help of _Alarte Ascendare_ , Chase made it back on his feet.

He and Alexander made their way into the still-lit room, closing the door silently behind them. His two other roommates were already in bed, sleeping, their sides rising and falling evenly. Ople was perched on his nightstand, crooning softly and posturing in front of his small mirror.

"Sh sh sh," he muttered, offering her his arm to perch on. She squawked quietly and hopped on, ruffling her feathers.

"You're supposed to be in the aviary," he whispered, glancing at the open window. Ople brought up a leg and Chase noticed a letter skewered in her talons. He unstuck it gently and shooed her over to the window until she took off, and then he closed it quietly behind her.

"Where've you been, man?" Alexander asked. "We were waiting on you to play exploding snap, but you never showed."

Chase grimaced at the letter he was holding. "Detention with Blackfoot," he explained, ripping open the paper. "Remember that little love potion stint I was talking about with Amanda and Carlysle?"

"Nooo, you _didn't_ ," Alexander breathed.

"But I did," Chase smirked at him.

"Augh! To have seen his face," Alexander sighed.

Chase snickered and drew the paper out of the envelope and unfolded it to see Shay's loopy handwriting. Several curse words leapt out at him at once, and he sighed, crushing the paper.

"Oo, can I see?" Alexander jumped for the paper, and Chase tossed the crumpled ball at him.

"Knock yourself out," he sighed. "God knows it's the only excitement you get in your life, reading my hate mail."

Alexander sniggered.

Chase groaned and dropped back onto his bed. "I am so done with this," he muttered.

"Maybe if you actually tried to stay in a relationship, you wouldn't have a horde of drooling-slash-murderous boys and girls trailing you everywhere."

Chase just sighed.

"Is the garden tool back?" Taj mumbled from his bed.

"Yes, he is, and he would like it if you'd stop referring to him like that," Chase smirked. He didn't _really_ mind. He'd spent eleven years dreaming of having friends to banter with, and now that he had them, he realized that they were even better than he'd imagined.

"Oh, wow, she put in what sounds like a death threat," Alexander said, holding the letter up.

"Really?" Taj bolted up from the bed so fast that Chase wondered if he'd been faking sleeping the whole time. "Lemme see!"

Alexander held the letter in front of the both of them.

"Will y'all shut _up_?" Collin groaned, tugging the blanket over his head.

Chase fell back onto his pillow and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Don't even tell me what it says."

"Dude, she sounds really attached. What did you _do_ with her last summer?"

"Hey, it can't be that bad," Taj said, trying to be comforting. "I mean, you've gotten creepy death threats before, right? Like during first year, that one witch was trying to kill all the Specials at Ilvermorny; and that one dark wizard who you gave flak to; and the—"

"Alright," Chase said hastily. "I think I get the point. Lots of people want me dead. Including a dark wizard and my ex." He almost laughed. The comparison was almost ridiculous.

"I mean, does it bother you?" Taj asked. "You never minded before."

"I'm just really tired of this. I want to die, but not at the hands of my ex," Chase moaned dramatically, flopping backwards onto his bed. He knew that Shay couldn't _actually_ do anything to him. Not that it would've worked out, anyway. Shay was whiny and presumptuous; a month into their 'relationship' and Chase had been wondering what about her had even initially caught his eye.

He sighed again, letting his arm fall over his eyes.

"Uh, dude, have you taken your meds?" Alexander asked. Alexander had two No-Maj parents, so he understood it when Chase had come clean to him in their first year and told him about his depression and anxiety issues. He didn't have any No-Maj money, so he couldn't get meds, but Alexander helped when he could, managing to give him just enough cash to buy the pills he'd been prescribed at a nearby No-Maj pharmacy so he didn't hurl himself off the Astronomy tower or slit his wrists in the shower.

"I feel like jumping off Saddle Ball Mountain, Alexander. Do you _think_ I've taken my meds?" Chase not making any jokes about said mountain's name must've alerted his friend to his true mood.

"Go take 'em, Chase. Right now," he ordered.

Collin sat up straight in his bed as Chase rolled over, rummaging in his nightstand for the orange bottle.

"Whasgoinon?" he slurred, his caramel hair a squirrel's nest on top of his head.

"Angsty teen-y-ness," Taj snickered.

Chase threw his pillow at him, and Taj caught it expertly. "Don't expect it back," he said seriously.

"Chase, man, you okay?" Collin looked at him with slightly sleepy concern, and when Chase turned around, three pairs of worried eyes met his. No matter how much they needled each other, they were like family.

He forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Or, will be, anyway."

"That stuff that happened in the Center Hall was pretty bad, huh?" Taj asked softly.

"Yeah." Chase grimaced as he dry-swallowed the bitter pill he should've taken five hours ago. "I'll get over it, though."

Now why did that sound like a lie?


	6. Chapter 6: Nic

Ilvermorny was oddly subdued over the next week. It was obvious that students were still shaken over the Center Hall episode. People muttered in the hall whenever Nic passed them. Honestly, it was getting a bit ridiculous.

It was odd, too. After the three Specials had been dismissed from the Headmaster's office and gone their separate ways, he hadn't heard from Rachel at all. Not a peep. He'd asked her friends about her, but they all told him that she was just sick and resting it out in her bedroom.

To him, that sounded like a lie.

A week after the incident, Nic was mulling over this when the head of Wampus House told Nic that the Headmaster wanted to see him in her office.

Surprised, Nic had immediately agreed and started making his way across the school.

When he'd gotten to the bottom of the spiral staircase that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office, he nearly ran into Chase.

"What are you doing here?" Chase asked, eyebrows rising. His hair was pulled into a messy bun on the crown of his head, a few curls wildly attempting a bid for freedom.

"I could ask the same," Nic said, eyeing the shorter teen.

"I asked first," Chase said stubbornly.

"What are you, six?" Nic snickered. He could practically hear Chase's growl.

The stone crane Chase must've been talking to before Nic arrived rolled its eyes and stepped off the wall, only a foot or so shorter than Nic. It clacked its beak, irritated, and stepped onto the center stone of the floor. The walls vanished and Headmaster Liang's voice made Nic jump.

"What are you waiting for? Come on in."

Chase snorted and trotted down the corridor at a smart pace, Nic following more sedately behind him.

The Headmaster was leaning against her oaken desk, hugging a short girl, who sniffed occasionally.

"Duran. Reldai."

"Headmaster," Nic greeted her, dipping his head respectfully.

"'Sup," Chase said jerking his chin up, and Nic looked at him in astonishment.

Headmaster Liang didn't seem to have any qualms with Chase's casualness. She rubbed the back of the girl she was hugging, and then they drew apart.

"Bowers?" she asked kindly. "Do you want to tell them what you told me?"

"Of course, Headmaster," the girl said, her voice watery. Bailey Bowers, Rachel's best friend in Ilvermorny.

Bailey swiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked at Nic and Chase.

Nic's brow creased. What had happened to get Bailey all riled up? She was usually the calmest, most level-headed person Nic knew.

Bailey cleared her throat. "I don't suppose either of you have seen Rachel, have you?" she asked feebly, and both Nic and Chase shook their heads.

"Well, n-neither have I." She took a deep breath in. "Not since last night a week ago. She c-came back from Headmaster Liang's office and she was fine when we were going through all our classes and stuff. But when I woke up the next morning, she wasn't in her bed. She j-just disappeared."

The Headmaster handed Bailey a tissue and the petite blonde scrubbed at her eyes, like she was determined not to cry.

"She left me a n-note saying that she needed a 'breather' from school. She didn't tell me where she was going, and she said she'd be back in two or three days. E -except it's been a week and she's still not back. I can't send her an owl, because I don't know where she is, and she's a pureblood, so she doesn't have a phone that I can text or call."

She blew her nose.

"Bailey is right to be concerned," Headmaster Liang said. "I called you two down here because you're also Specials. Has Tellemeyer said anything to you at all? Anything to let you know where she is? I've already contacted her parents, and they said they have no idea where she is, either."

Chase shook his head mutely, eyes wide.

"No…" Nic said. Rachel, gone without a word? That was characteristically… un-Rachel. He frowned. Rachel was kind and empathetic, but she wasn't exactly someone who kept her mouth shut about her whereabouts.

Chase opened his mouth, then shut it with a snap, looking like he was deep in thought.

"Duran?"

Chase hesitated.

 _Spit it out!_ Nic wanted to tell him.

"What if…. What if this has something to do with the situation with Trey Johnson a week ago?" he asked into a suddenly very silent room. "Think about it. Trey's going crazy on the floor, and that night, Rachel disappears. It's all very convenient. Everyone's so focused on Trey's… _episode_ … that everyone neglects that a girl has gone missing right under all their noses."

The Headmaster frowned.

Everyone was silent for quite a while. Thoughts ran rampant through Nic's head.

At last, the Headmaster asked, "Why?"

Chase looked pleased, as if he were glad that someone was finally asking the right questions. "Now, that's the million-dollar question, isn't it?"

"B-but why would anyone want Rachel in particular?" Bailey stuttered. "She never did anything to anyone!"

Chase shrugged, seeming to deflate. "I dunno," he mumbled. "I don't have _all_ the answers, you know."

The Headmaster sighed, rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Alright. We'll think about it. But," she said severely, "I _do not_ want this getting out. If I hear that any of you are spreading rumors, then you'll be in very big trouble. I don't want the students to know about this, I don't want the newspapers to know about this, and I definitely _do not_ want the public to know about this. For all we know, Tellemeyer could be fine, and we're just overreacting. Got it?"

The three nodded obediently.

"I'll tell Tellemeyer's teachers that will not be available for an indefinite amount of time."

She rounded her desk, waving her wand. Paper flurried up from her desk, ink writing itself across the cream pages as they folded themselves into thirds, inserting themselves into envelopes and flying out the open window and into the vents.

"If any students ask where Tellemeyer is, she's taking time off because of a family emergency. That's her excuse, got it?" she said, fixing them all with a look.

They bobbed their heads.

"Of course, you may talk to your teachers about it," she said, softening slightly. "I trust them."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Nic caught sight of Chase frowning down at his robes.

The Headmaster caught his attention and they locked eyes. "Of course, if you think of anything, remember I'd like to hear about it. I don't want _any_ of my students coming to harm. The sooner we can get in contact with Rachel again, the better."

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Dismissed."

Nic nodded respectfully and made to leave, Bailey following him.

"Hold on," the Headmaster said. "Duran, a word."

Nic looked back as he and Bailey stepped into the corridor and watched Chase and the Headmaster conversing quietly. Clearly their conversation wasn't meant for his ears. He turned back around and made his way to the staircase. He had a class to get to and studying to do.


End file.
